I See You've Called in Dead

by John Kenney

What would you write if you had to write your obituary? Today, right now. What comes to mind? What memories, days, moments? What people and experiences? I realize, at first glance, that the idea of writing one’s own obituary while still alive may sound morbid. It’s not, though. I promise you. It’s a needed reminder of who you are, of what truly matters. Because it’s your life and there’s still time to write it. Before I have to.

I would rewire, be a better me. More patient, more hopeful, more empathetic. I would be the change I wanted to see in the world. Because I would change. I would not be me.

neither lazy nor diligent (potential gravestone epitaph?),

felt

I was happy for her. I was. In the way that someone can be happy for someone else but also sort of wish them dead.

also felt

You can’t kiss a stranger but you can want to.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m a little confused. I’m not dead. Or I am and heaven really sucks.”

“The Chesapeake Bay Bridge is the Stephen King of bridges.

it’s true. i grew up on the Chesapeake Bay. And love Stephen King.

“You have a wound,” she said. “If it was a cut, you’d have put Neosporin on it, a Band-Aid. But you did nothing and so it festers. You and me and a billion others. We walk around with these deep wounds that alter how we think and what we say, the relationships we have, who we trust, the decisions we make. That keep us from really living.”

How rude of the dead to die. How selfish. Wherever they are, no pain, in eternal darkness or wondrous afterlife. And here we are, tears streaming down our cheeks, the knotted stomach and clammy palms, a feeling akin to falling, in a dream that won’t end. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again, even though I wanted to reach out and touch his hand. “You can’t go yet,” I said. “I’m not ready.” I reached out and laid my hand over his.

Please, please, please be happy. Try. You’re going to die, you know. Trust me on that one.

Tim said we are all obituary writers because we get to write our life every day. Write it. Please. It’s your life.